


you can fake it, till you can’t

by pastelwolfie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, author is projecting, but not really, you can’t sleep there are monsters near by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwolfie/pseuds/pastelwolfie
Summary: every time he sleeps, the nightmares swallow him.every time he wakes, said nightmares seem to follow him to the living world.he decides not to sleep after that.ORanxiety and fear get the better of quackity and he starts seeing shadows move in the corner of his eyes, before his lack of sleep leads to him hallucinating. vividly.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, can be read as platonic or romantic - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	you can fake it, till you can’t

**Author's Note:**

> haha angst go brrr  
> if they’re ooc don’t mind me i’ve never actually watched any of their streams, this is more of a vent/projection fic lol
> 
> not really tho this is just like, what i’m scared is going to happen (minus the sweet comfort bc covid) and i think i’ve portrayed the emotions right so uhhh
> 
> the comfort is just to satiate my need for soft things ok i’m very dual-toned :)

the air was cool, supposedly refreshing. the frigid, artificial breeze eddied around his room, cascading over heated skin. a damp sheen of sweat coated his body, creating a sickeningly uncomfortable feeling for his body. his muscles twitched and flexed involuntarily, face twisting and contorting into varying stages of agony and fear each time he did so. the pillows did little to comfort his head, mind seething with unwanted images and warped memories of distorted figures and moving shadows that seemed to ebb from his dreams into his reality with each sleepless night.  
waking with a start each time, he’d take his gaze across his room, eyes doubling back each time he swore he saw the shadows move.   
he was going mad.

sleep came with the pain of whatever darkness cursed his unconscious mind, so he avoided it as much as he could. it only brought him pain and fear and paranoia and he’d wake up more exhausted than he’d felt falling asleep, so there really wasn’t a benefit. sometimes, though, his eyes would grow heavy, lidded shut for seconds at a time before he seemed to snap out of it for short lapses of time, jumping in his seat, eyes darting nervously from side to side. the vicious process would often repeat before he’d find himself being woken up by an angry 3rd party or a particularly real image plundered his mind and punted him back into the world of the living.

the result of his unhealthy sleeping patterns was, of course, a substantial degrade in his mental and physical health, vanity included.  
he seemed much, much paler, dark bags bruised beneath his eyes, making his entire face look sunken and hollow. his frame was significantly slimmer too, eating seemed to take more of his energy than it replenished, so how could it do him any good? had anyone picked him up or weighed him, they’d see how much of an issue that problem was.  
but no one had, so no one knew.

he wasn’t entirely invisible, however, and 2 very constant, very concerned figures always hollered on about his well-being and preached the importance of sleep to him.  
he’d pretend to listen, to agree, but he’d never truly take their words to heart, going back home for yet another sleepless night as per his usual.   
it’s not that he didn’t like sapnap and karl, he really did, but they don’t know. they didn’t know about what waited for him beyond the veil of sleep, the monsters that lurked beneath and crossed over into his waking world each time he so much as shut his eyes for longer than a heartbeat.

occasionally, it’d become too much for him, the shadows that slipped past his peripheral vision, the figures that stalked his shadow, gradually gaining distance and closing the space between them, until it was constantly behind him, only stepping back as his head snapped around to look at it through fearful eyes. his eyes would redden and seemingly endless floods of salty tears would cascade down his face, forcing his breath to come in short, stuttering gulps.  
his breakdowns were scarce, maybe once every other week (not actually as scarce as he’d liked to have believed, though he still tried to fool himself.) if he ware lucky.  
as luck would have it, though, sapnap and karl always managed to find him right in the heat of the moment. the frequency at which he’d crumble in on himself was now a growing cause for concern to the other boys, who would try to subtly increase the amount of time they spent with him, which was something seeing as they already spent most of their time together.

quackity would compose himself every time, knowing the fickle excuse of ‘i’m fine’ would never fool his comrades, so he would come up with issues to blame the breakdown with on the fly, making the truth impeccably difficult for his friends to obtain, getting thrown off the scent (less and less with each passing excuse) as piles of half-truth truths were dumped on him:  
“work’s been building up.”  
“home’s not been great, actually.”  
“school’s been... rough,”  
“didn’t sleep well last night, horrible nightmare.”  
“just- just being paranoid, nothing- um, much.”

he’d play to his strengths, twisting and contorting his expressions, he could fool anyone. his practiced hesitance, forced voice cracks that he reluctantly recovered from with tried experience, the way he’d subtly flicker his gaze, avoid direct eye contact, twitch his fingers and tense his muscles, pay extra attention to his breathing to labour his lungs.

he paraded behind a wall of issues that weren’t really his, creating a facade to cover up his demons. they followed him, stalked him, they were always around the corner, watching. 

he was going mad. 

he knew he was loosing his grip, slowly, gradually, painfully. he knew he was loosing touch with his reality, slipping further and further into the realm of demons that greeted him each time he closed his eyes.   
eventually, he’d shut his eyes, and he’d be stuck there forever. trapped with the darkness and the demons, running for a light and a life he’d leave behind.

he tried not to. really, he did. as each day dragged him further down, threatening another night each time it passed, quackity tried his hardest to distract himself with activity and friends, though he severely lacked the energy to participate in much. he despised and feared the night, but thursdays were almost as bad.  
he had sport on a thursday.

it was friday, though. he had made it through thursday with only feeling like he was going to collapse, not actually closing his eyes and falling to the floor.   
it was supposed to be a good day- he was hanging out with his best friends today! a sleepover at karl’s.

he tried not to resent it.

the day passed in its usual agonisingly slow pace, and before his sluggish mind could really process any of the information that had been spewed at him throughout the day, it was 5 o’clock and he was at karl’s, lying with his friends on his bed and listening to them giggle at something displayed on a painfully bright laptop screen.

“imagine being funny, couldn’t be me!”  
that was karl, wasn’t it? the tone was one that clicked in his mind, like a cue. make a joke. funny haha- he cracked those all the time!

“believe me, we know-“  
the words slipped from his mouth almost on instinct, feeling like an actual joke rather than the comments he’d give himself to whip out. almost.   
he was painfully aware of the weight crushing his chest, the weight flushing the air from his lungs as karl let out a sputtered cry, in defiance, and sapnap chucked.

his eyes roamed over to the ceiling after an undisclosed period of time of conversation much like his first comment, feeling bleary and eyes loosing focus on the world around him. he could feel his conscious slipping, darkness ebbing at the corners of his mind, eyes suddenly feeling heavy.  
“it’s late. wanna clock it it? hey q, you- oh, shit,”  
everything was fuzzy, sounds becoming muffled as the sound of his own breathing filled his mind. he was drifting, the darkness was taking over.   
it couldn’t. no, no, no- if the darkness took over, then- what if it never left? how, how would he come back what- what if the shadows followed him? he wasn’t sure how many trips he could make before the two merged together, becoming one with the other.  
his body and his mind both longed for rest, a break from the never ending nightmare of the waking world, but he knew that if he slept he’d only be plunged into another world of nightmares, this time alone and cold and in a realm that said ‘fuck you’ to all common sense in order to torture him as much as possible.   
fear gripped him like an iron vice, sending chills through his body, despite how hot he felt, uncomfortably warm in his own skin.   
lights danced infront of him, out of focused shapes of brighter ceiling. the blurry shapes were further distorted by the tears that he unwillingly allowed to build behind his eyes. the warm feeling of damp trails soon spread across his face, and he could feel his grasp on himself, the hold he’d kept himself in for so long, shatter as the tears fell. breathing was suddenly laboured, more laboured than he could ever recall it being.  
now is not the time. now is not the time. stay awake. stay awake. don’t go back there. please don’t go back there. don’t. please. just hold on.

everything’s was blurry and fuzzy and drifting and he was loosing his grip on everything, everything was going wrong. everything was going, it was fading. he didn’t want to fall asleep. he never wanted to fall asleep. please don’t make him sleep.

everything was hazy, muted, distorted. there were sounds he couldn’t process or identify, movements he couldn’t clock or follow. all he knew was that if he fell asleep, the shadows would come and they wouldn’t go and they’d drag them into their darkness and he’d be cold and scared forever and god he didn’t want to be alone and cold and scared forever but wouldn’t anything be better than the reality he was in now?

then there was something. something touched him. moved him.  
it was real, solid. he hadn’t done it, so who had?  
the shadows. they could touch him? they- no, no, no, no- they couldn’t touch him. they could touch him? shit, shit, shit, shit-

“quackity?”

that was his name. they knew his name? oh shit, they knew his name, of course they knew his name they followed him everywhere they-

everything sounded distant once again, a ringing howling in his ears. the voice was clear to him, through everything fuzzy and faded. it was strange, different. warm? the shadows were cold, they numbed him of his emotions and made him shiver. why was its voice so comforting? familiar?

“hey, please breathe, q, you’re going to pass out.”

pass out? no, no, no he needed to stay awake, he needed to keep the shadows away and he couldn’t keep the shadows away if he was asleep, or unconscious, he couldn’t, he-

“calm down. breathe with me.”

another voice, equally as warm and soft but this time it was behind him, closer to him. he was so tired, he wanted to sleep but he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t, he-

everything slowly came back, the feeling of the cool air against his skin, the damp tracks of tears down his face, how his hoodie hung loosely off his shoulders, how his beanie hugged his hair to his head. he wasn’t lying on the bed, he couldn’t have been- beds didn’t hug back. was it a shadow? it must have been- oh, god he couldn’t see it, they were there they had caught up to him, how- how had they managed to-

“breathe, quackity. please, just follow my lead.”

the warmth. it rolled down the back of his neck, a soft whisper that glided smoothly through his brain, gentle and kind. it was close to him, he could feel the air brush gently at his ear. it was behind him. 

it? no, him- they, who were they? if it wasn’t the shadows, then, then who-

hands on his stomach coaxed him back from the trap of his mind, focusing on the movements as fingers glided against his burning skin in a soothing manner. this wasn’t the shadow, it was warm, it was gentle, it was trying to help.  
but who... who would-

“there you are, quackity, just breathe. you’re doing so well.”

sapnap. the voice ghosted past his ear again, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end when he realised who the warmth belonged to. sapnap had held him, helped him, and ka- karl was, was next to him, when did he get next to him? karl held one of his hands, squeezing gently. when had- when had they- w-what?

he could feel each long breath he sucked in as it filled his nose with a stingingly frigid air, sending shivers through his body and reminding him fearfully of the ever waiting darkness. but the he could feel the warmth cradling him after each breath, eventually dispelling the darkness as a soft light encased his brain instead, pulling his breaths from his body and relaxing him. 

if he made the leap, the jump to the warmth and away from the darkness, he knew he wouldn’t be able to turn back. if- if the heat was a faux hope, a game with his brain, then, then he’d fall. he’d fall all the way back into the oblivion of darkness, and he didn’t think he’d have the energy or the resilience to crawl back out. it sent pulses of sparkling fear through his body, but the warmth...   
it was so familiar, comforting- sapnap and karl were beside him, whispering sweet nothings into his ears that got lost in his sea of thoughts. he wanted to jump, to leave the darkness behind and hide in the light of the warmth, so...  
he did.

he let his muscles grow limp, unaware of how much tension they held, allowing himself to sink back into the embrace that sapnap held him in. he could feel every breath he took, the rise and fall of his chest, grounding his body and busying his subconscious. in, out. in, out.

“quackity, quackity can you hear me?”

a soft, beautiful tone from beside him, accompanied by a gentle squeeze from the hand his own was held in. after trying to force his mouth open and deciding against it, he settled for a small nod, suddenly aware of how heavy his head felt on his shoulders, and the aching in his limbs.

“good, quackity- what, are you tired?”

consistently soft, kindly edged and cautious. the tone soothed his racing nerves, feeling the raging panic within him subside each time he spoke. paired with the soothing feeling of sturdy hands holding his stomach, pulling him close to the chest that grounded him as they breathed, quackity almost wanted to close his eyes. 

a weak nod, his head falling back against the person behind him, feeling their warm breath against the side of his face now, refreshing against his burning skin despite being warm itself. tension flooded from his body, his breathing falling into pace with sapnap’s, whose breathing was a calm, rhythmically slow pace. 

“can you tell us what happened?”

the words were weighted in the most painfully caring way. it hurt his heart and healed it all at once, the pain of his anxieties colliding head on with the reassurances of his friends and their concerned words. 

for the first time in what felt like forever, his anxiety lost the battle.

“havn’ slept...”

the words were quiet, low, voice foreign on his own tongue. he could hardly recognise the voice as his own.

“hm. is there a reason why you haven’t?” 

karl’s voice was still a soothing stream of syllables and vowels against his ears. they softly demanded an answer of him, more like a cautious nudge for a response that he fell right into.

“ ‘s dark. cold.”

he wanted so badly to elaborate more, but he was worried the warmth would leave him if they knew. that the darkness would fill their minds and drive them away from him - the beacon of shadows.

“is that it?”

they could sound harsh but they weren’t, they were worried, suspicious. they knew he wasn’t letting on to everything. before he could choke out another pair of words, karl spoke gently over him, words filled with concern.

“do you get nightmares?”

a miserable nod. the relaxation that had come over him was still edged by fear and anxiety, eyes still pricking with unshed and falling tears, though they were coming at a much slower pace than they were before. 

“they follow me here,”

his voice was nothing more than a breathless whisper, so small that he was shocked that he even heard it himself. sapnap echoed his words, probably so that karl could hear them. still, he wouldn’t complain- the light rumble of his chest as he spoke calming him further, drowning out his panic.  
“they follow you? what do you mean, ‘they follow you’?”

everything was heavy, tiredness weighed him down like a boulder in the ocean, relaxing waves of water lapping at his mind, luring him into their oceanic depths, though the darkness and cold he had grown fearfully accustomed to, in addition to the drowning and choking sensation, never came. instead, it felt like the waters were keeping him afloat, letting his body relax against its warm ripples. 

“when ‘m sleeping, they’re there but they don’t leave ‘n i wake up.”

the rhythmic rise and fall of the chest his back was pressed against seemed to falter slightly, but thoughts were starting to swirl viciously around his mind faster than he could filter them, drowning out any talking his friends did. as his thoughts collided, the cold seemed to creep back up on him, terrifying him- it wasn’t gone? why- he thought it was gone, were the shadows there? what if they came back? what if they’re still here, watching? how would he get rid of them- could he? they were still there. they always were. where were they? where had-

“quackity, breathe. focus on breathing, okay?”

warmth rolled down the back of his neck once again as the whisper landed in his ear, dancing from one side of his mind to the other. words playing on repeat in his head, he focused on them- a desperate attempt to forget about the chills that snuck up on him. his breathing steadied gradually, unsure of when it had become so sporadic, allowing himself to hide once again in the warmth that his friends provided him. 

“do you know what they are?”

another gentle question, pushing for answers in a kind manner. they left no room in his brain to deny it an answer, the words falling from his mouth as soon as they entered his mind,

“mmm. shadows. dark. i dunno- they’re cold.”

bringing his free arm to his chest, his body seemed to curl in on itself, subconsciously flinching at the mere thought of the shadows that seemed to dance against the corners of his vision, taunting him, following him.

“do-“  
“they never leave me alone.”

the words were broken and nearly indistinguishable from the next, free hand tensing in on itself, muscles burning from the strain of being used. 

the next words were cautious, scared, but not as fearful as him. never as fearful of him.

“are- are they here? now?”

his mind raked over the question a thousand times over. were they? he didn’t know, he was hardly coping with what was happening around him, how would he keep up with knowing they were there?

“d’know, don’t- don’t wanna. please, don’t- don’t make.. don’t wanna know.”

if he checked for them, then he’d know they were there. if they were there he wouldn’t stop seeing them and he’d actually loose it and he don’t want to loose his grip on himself, he was barely managing to keep it together as it was.

“shhh, it’s alright. it’s okay, we won’t make you.”

voice from behind him again, he let his body drain itself of tension, head falling to the side. he was tired. so, so tired. if he’d just close his eyes, for a second, maybe it’d all go away-

no. you don’t want it to go away. you like being here, with them. they’re your friends... you love them, they love you. closing your eyes means darkness and darkness means the shadows will be there and the shadows means he’ll be cold and alone and he didn’t want to be any of those things.  
he was tired of being cold.  
he was tired of being alone.  
he was tired of being followed.  
he was tired of being tired.  
he was exhausted.

“do you want to try and sleep?”

the suggestion made his breathing hitch, refusing to allow air safe passage back into his lungs. yes. yes. a thousand times yes, but no. never. never ever again. if he slept the darkness would swallow him, and he’d fall into the ice and he’d never get to wake again.  
see them again.

before he answered formally, he felt his body shift as the person, whom he’d been sat on the lap of for however long it was, moved and repositioned them self. his back was still pressed up against his chest, translating the breathing pattern for himself to use, but his head now rested on a cool, comfortable pillow that cushioned his head, pressing comfortably against the slight throbbing in his forehead. an arm was still wrapped around his torso, but warmth also got pressed against his chest, karl finally slipping into his view. his features were soft and concerned, eyes glittering with worry and speckled fear. one of his hands was still wrapped firmly around his own, squeezing gently whenever his muscles became taught. two pairs of legs pressed against his own, surrounding him on either side. he felt more so than heard the faint whispers of sapnap behind him, all he was capable of seeing being karl’s soft features as he offered him a gentle, sad smile. 

warmth flooded through him, and keeping his eyes open soon became too much to handle, eyes slipping shut fluttering slightly, before remaining closed. the darkness wasn’t cold or lonely, it was warm, the constant feeling of breath against his neck and and the breathing against his chest and his back served to tell him: you are not alone.

exhaustion gripped at his mind, his body, his heart, everything feeling unbearably heavy and tiring. allowing one last word to leave his lips, he felt himself get pulled into the dark beyond, fears and worried melted away by the heat of the kindness that he was surrounded by.

“please,”

when his eyes opened to the realm of his dreams, surprised ebbed through him as he found himself stood on an outside patio, a view of the ocean through the parting tops of a canopy of exotic trees. the sun set over the ocean, painting the sky with luminous shades of oranges and pinks, reflecting on the relaxed waves of the ocean. time removed, but the sunset didn’t, keeping him company the duration of the dream. he was held closely by warmth on either side, sat between two people on the sofa, their presences feeling like beacons of light in comparison to the beacons of darkness that were the shadows.  
there were no shadows here.  
he felt safe, at last.  
it was bliss.


End file.
